The Boy on the Roof
by DreadingTheDayWhenYou'reGone
Summary: Once a simple one-shot for Klaine Is My Life's about Harry Potter, now turned into a story. After years of not seeing the Boy on the Roof, the girl stumbled upon him, sitting alone on a park bench. And she saw him again, a birthday wish come true.
1. Chapter 1

**I'd just like to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAGGIE/Klaine Is My Life! I've written this in honor of your birthday and hope you enjoy it! To other people out there who are reading this, enjoy. P.S. It took me forever to think of this little one-shot.**

* * *

There he was, sitting on the kitchen roof, staring at the world because he had no idea why he was there, staring at people below him. "Get down from there this instant!" one of the teachers yelled toward him. But, again, there was that wonder why he was there, why Harry Potter was looking at everything from a bird's perspective.

Harry Potter, that was his name, that was who he was, the girl knew. The girl knew he wore broken glasses and baggy clothes. The girl knew many things about that school, Saint Grogory's Primary School. But she did not know who Saint Grogory was, or why he would want a school named after him. She did not know why Harry wore glasses repaired with tape, or why he lived with his uncle and aunt.

But the girl didn't ask him, didn't ask how he got on the kitchen roof, or why he lived with relatives that weren't his parents. The girl was just a girl who was afraid of Dudley's gang, afraid they might beat her up if she dared talk to his cousin. The girl just wanted, for a moment maybe, to ask him those entire questions she had floating around her head, questions that she was sure he would answer because he was alone.

The day came when she could, when she saw an older version of the boy who sat on the kitchen roof all those years again. He couldn't be older than fourteen as he sat there, but it looked to her as if he was much older. "Hello," she heard herself say to him. "You're Harry Potter, right?"

His eyes, the same shade of bright green they were years ago, looked up, meeting her blue ones. "Yes, I am. Who are you?"

What could she say to him? That she had so many questions for him when he was younger? No, she'd seem weirder than she really was. Instead, she settled for answering his simple question first. "I'm Maggie, I knew you when we went to Saint Grogory's School together. You got yelled at for being on the roof." She wanted to ask where he went for those years, why he didn't continue going to school here.

"Oh." But there wasn't something of recognition in his voice.

"How is your new school?" she asked, knowing that he must go to some type of boarding school in order for him not to return to his home after it. Maggie sat down next to him, taking the almost empty seat next to him on the bench.

He paused, continuing to stare up at the brown haired girl above him, true, he vaguely remembered her, but she said she saw him on the roof of the kitchen, before he knew he was a wizard. "It's quite magical, actually. I have many friends there."

"I bet it's better than mine. I really don't care about history and mathematics," she stated, staring easy conversation with this teenager.

A small laugh escaped his lips, but neither of them knew why, nor did Maggie ask him why he laughed. "It was good seeing you again, Harry. I hope you have fun at your new school," she states, standing from her place.

"It was nice seeing you too," Harry replied, not standing from his spot. And that was one of the last times the girl saw the Boy on the Roof again


	2. Chapter 2

**What was once a one-shot birthday thing, is now a story about a girl following someone who she thought she'd only see a few times. Maggie, I hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

She saw him again. The day was growing closer to an end. But her fifeenth birthday had not gone as she hoped for. So many relatives streaming into their tiny house on Privet Drive.

Kisses were giving to Maggie upon each relatives arrival. And one aunt went so far as to hold her by the arms and shake her to see if her brain would get damaged. After the aunt was pulled off, the birthday girl gave up on answering the door, leaving that job to a sibling. To this day, Maggie still has no idea why her aunt would do that, knowing that Maggie was no longer young enough to get her head scrambled just by shaking her.

Maggie sat, watching as the family talked over the televison, each new person coming in and adding to the noise. Soon, everything had grown out of hand, coats were no longer placed where they should, the living room was too crowded, and she could hear the fire alarm beeping from the kitchen.

Against all the people and all the nosie, Maggie pushed her way through the thick of people, one cousin grabbing onto her leg and starting to sing an off-key version of "Happy Birthday." Soon, the whole family was in, each voice different from the last. And after that, her mother came in, singing along with relatives, a cake decorted with red icing in her grasp.

Fifteen candles waved about against the breathing of the relatives around her. If Maggie looked above all the heads, she could very well see that the edges of the room would be bare, making everyone in this house now crowded around her. Maggie made a quick wish.

Maggie wished, a quick, unimportant wish, to see the Boy on the Roof one more time. The candles were gone, and the cake was eaten, and the presents that were open consisted of socks and other things. And she wished, that maybe, that Boy on the Roof, would return again.

* * *

As Maggie stared at the clear night sky after everyone had left, each waving and kissing Maggie as they closed the door behind her, she remembered the day, at least a year ago, when she saw him. And yet, he had not remembered who she was. An umimportant girl who stared in awe at the boy sitting so high above them all.

Her blue eyes gazed out across the street, where they fell upon a quite house ten numbers down and one forward. There, in the backyard of a house so close, was a shimmer in the night. A slight shimmer, one that was in nine other places at once.

The young girl stood, thinking her imagination had come back from when she was nine. But it hadn't; the shimmers were still very much there! She had no idea what they could be, or what they could _mean. _Was this a result of her foolish wish with the candles? Could one of those shimmers very well be Harry Potter? The shimmers, very faintly, went away.

Maggie looked, waiting for the shimmers to reappear. But they didn't. The girl, very much in defeat of what she thought she saw, slumped back against her window seat. Her face pressed into the glass of the window, she stared at the stars.

Had she not seen the shimmers, her dreams of magic wouldn't have rekindled. And, like she did when she was younger, started to believe that there was magically beings out there.

But Maggie wouldn't see them, not for some time. And, as the last thoughts of shimmers gave way to her sleepiness, the birthday girl knew that someone had heard her plea of seeing him once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! I'm back! Sorry this took so long, but I've been awfully busy with everything else. Enjoy this one, and I hope that the next one is up faster than this was.**

* * *

She saw him a few years later. The night was quiet, and she had just witnessed the Dursley's leaving, for some reason she never found out. It was a few weeks before her seventeenth birthday, and all was well that summer. A warm, pleasant summer that was spent walking around or in the library.

People emerged from the house doors of Harry's house, but they all looked different. A man taller than the others, one with a limp, so many others that were too far away to examine from her bedroom window. Then, from what she could tell, there were seven boys!

Seven, very identical, boys.

All dressed as the boy she once knew.

And she was stunned.

Of course she was stunned. It's not every day you see seven people who look the same, all in one place, all walking out to the street, all doing something that seemed out of the ordinary.

The man with the limp, a cane in his hand, looked up at the sky, his eyes searching for something she couldn't tell. Then his eyes paused on her bedroom window, as if he knew she was there, looking. One of his eyes, Maggie could see, was wildly turning around in its socket, but his other one was focused on her. He winked, and that was the last sight she remembered before darkness surrounded her.

* * *

When she woke, she rushed out to see what was outside, what lay in the street.

Nothing.

There were no signs of the seven boys and the man with the limp. Her bare feet touched the cold stone of her walkway, staring at the plain old street called Privet Drive.

It was pointless for her to think that there could be seven boys that all looked very much like Harry Potter, all dressed in the same clothes, all wearing the same glasses, could all be on Privet Drive.

Slowly, she picked up the daily paper and walked back inside, the thought that there was something boring into her back as she closed the wooden door with the number _10 _etched nicely on the front.

With a tad bit of disappointment, she tossed the newspaper on the eating table in front of her father. "Why the long face, Maggie?" her father asked, grabbing the paper and beginning to read it.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she replied.

"Are you ready for your birthday?"

"Yeah. I am." Her eyes moved from the oak table and the etchings that her fingers made to the window.

Maybe it was the thought of her birthday so near, or that her last wish almost came true, but she had a feeling that something would happen in the next year that was worth while.


End file.
